


Girl Named Tennessee

by Mad_Birdy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 11:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14495949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Birdy/pseuds/Mad_Birdy
Summary: Dean goes out to celebrate his 21st birthday the only way he knows how, and ends up meeting a woman who's more than he could have ever dreamed of.





	Girl Named Tennessee

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "Girl Named Tennessee" by Needtobreathe

Dean Winchester, full of the swagger and cocky confidence that comes with turning twenty-one, walks up to the bar and orders a drink, sliding over his actually-legal I.D. when the bartender raises an eyebrow at him. He keeps his eye on the people crowding the dance floor as he sips the beer, elbow resting on the bar as he leans against it. It’s one of those rare times when he’s on his own for a bit, doing a simple werewolf hunt in Tennessee with Sam while John’s off chasing whispers. His little brother stayed back at the motel, choosing to read while Dean celebrates his birthday in typical bachelor style.

He finishes his beer and turns to order another when a girl leans up beside him and says to the bartender, “Two whiskeys, neat.” She turns to him with a slightly smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Thought you might need something a little stronger before you worked up the balls to talk to me.”

Dean’s eyes go wide and he laughs, a witty remark on the end of his tongue and then… gone. His laugh dies off a little awkwardly as he realizes he’s slightly intimidated by her, and when the bartender sets down the whiskey, he downs one immediately. He’s reaching for the other one when she takes it and downs it, and goddamn but that turns him on and makes him feel even more inferior at the same time. She motions for two more and smiles widely at him. “There. Now are you able to speak?”

“Uh, I uh…” He laughs at himself, his hand rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously as he looks anywhere but at her. His eyes fix on her shoes -- biker boots, worn and beaten but sturdy -- and he says, “My name’s Dean?”

“Are you sure?” She chuckles and takes another glass of whiskey, swirling this one a bit before sipping. “You sound a little uncertain. Maybe another whiskey will help.” She slides his glass over to him and he downs it again.

“My name’s Dean,” he says, his voice more steady.  _ Come on, man, what’s your deal, be cool _ , he chides himself.

She smiles, and it takes his breath away. “Dean. Nice name. Know a lot of guys named Dean, though.”

He smirks, some of his confidence returning. “Bet you don’t know any like me.”

“Bet I do. Bet I know a lot of Deans like you.” There’s something to the tone of her voice that screams she knows something she shouldn’t, but he forgets about it the moment she grabs his hand and pulls him to the dance floor. “Come on, there’s-no-one-like-me-Dean. Dance with me.” He tries to protest, tries to say he doesn’t dance, but then she’s swaying in front of him and he’s sort of moving with the music.

By the end of the first song, he doesn’t care what kind of fool he looks like as he stands in the middle of the dance floor bobbing his head to the music. By the end of the first song, he’s too mesmerized by her to pay attention to anything but her. Her feet pound the floor to the beat of the music, and his eyes trace both the hard lines and soft curves of her body as she dances. Her hips sway enticingly, the curve of her ass just as tempting as the lines of her collarbones and shoulder blades. A bead of sweat rolls down her neck, and god, does he want to just latch onto that neck with his lips and never let go.

The light from the setting sun that had streamed through the windows at the beginning of the evening slowly dims, eventually giving way to the dark of a starlit sky. A slow song finally comes on and she turns to look at him, hair ruffled and chest heaving from her dance. Dean moves forward, intending to take her into a slow dance, which he knows he can do, but she smiles and steps off towards the bar again. He follows her, frowning slightly when he sees her get a glass of water from the bartender.

“Hey baby,” he says, leaning against the bar. “Thought you wanted to dance?”

She smirks, setting down the now-empty glass after chugging the water. “I did dance. And now I’ve gotta go.” A genuine smile crosses her face, tinged with something a little like sadness. “Nice to meet you, Dean-who’s-not-like-other-Deans. Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime.” And with that she’s headed for the door, ducking through the crowd.

He follows after her, calling out, “Wait! I didn’t catch your name!”

She stops just as she opens the door, silhouetted against the night sky as she says, “I didn’t say.” And then she’s gone.

~~~

Dean remembers her every now and then. That night, he’d told Sammy all about her, how amazing and mysterious she was. They started calling her Tennessee, for lack of a better name, and even years later, Dean’s thoughts wander to her whenever a song that played that night comes on the radio. He wonders, often, what she was doing at that bar at that time, why she’d picked him out of all the patrons there to socialize with.

And then one day, after the angels fell and he got the Mark and Sam cured him and they released the Darkness, one day he’s on a hunt on his own, working off some concerns he doesn’t want to talk to Sam about. It’s a skinwalker case, easy enough to take care of, but something happens he doesn’t expect.

As Dean shoots the skinwalker he was hunting, he doesn’t expect a second to leap out of hiding and attack him. And he sure as hell doesn’t expect the second gun that fires, killing the skinwalker. He looks up, and there she is. “Tennessee?” he asks from his place on the ground, having fallen when the skinwalker attacked him.

The woman’s eyebrows go up, and then she smiles softly, kneeling next to him. “Dean. The Dean who wasn’t like the others.” She cups his cheek with her hand. “How true that proved to be.”


End file.
